Monday, August 9, 2010

The new phone.

A new mobile phone. The third since we started blogging. Where once there were buttons to press now there is a flat screen and a multi-coloured array of 'apps'. This new phone is supposed to have a better camera than the previous model but you need to have a doctorate in electrical engineering to understand how to use it. Two frustrated hours were spent trying to get the blasted thing to charge. Wilf hasn't worked out yet that it's a 'soul catcher' device so he's quite happy to sit and look straight into the lens.

Up bright and early before the heat kicks in and off to the market with Wilf. There are fewer stalls around (even the market folk take August off ) but we were able to buy some cheese, fruit and croissants. The lady behind the cheese stall firmly told me that the aged Comte must only be eaten with a rich Burgundy. Wilf sat staring at the cheeses, savouring the smells and hoping that the stall would topple over.

As we sauntered back past the shuttered cafe ( are the absinthe drinkers imbibing at home ?) the new phone rang. Well, it didn't so much ring as sing. Much to the amusement of certain junior members of the family the new 'device' has been set so that the sounds of Shakiras Waka Waka boom out every time there's an incoming call. 'How cool is that' I asked Wilf. "Not very" he seemed to say before scooting off to christen the tyres on a yellow Renault.

Someone here decided that the Spongebob Squarepants music would be a good idea for Mom's phone - didn't tell her and she was standing in the 'very quiet' bank queue that other day when it went off ... likewise, I didn't think it cool at all especially when Murray started to try and get me to dance with him (in the queue!!!)

Sounds like an iPhone to me! We've had the first and second generations and are now writing this comment from an iPad. In a week you'll wonder how you lived without it! ( what can I say? I'm an early adopter.) there's something quite astonishing about carrying all your music, photos, a shelf worth of books, a couple of movies, a dozen or so magazines (plus Nigella Lawson's cooking app) all on one slim tablet.

Have you tried shooting any video yet? Oh yes, and my phone barks when the dog walker calls!

I detest cell phones and grumble every time mine goes off. I only have the thing because my daughter-in-laws told the wife that "old people should carry phones in case they get lost". The nerve, the dogs know the way back! :o/

I once had a watch that must've been created by the same makers of your phone! It was next to impossible to set it. The battery finally died to I just bought a new one. I'm a little leary of reading the instructions to set it to the correct time as I'm afraid it too will require a you to have a doctorate in electrical engineering to understand how to use it.

can i just say i sleep with my iphone, it has its own pillow. me, g, two wieners and randomly one or both cats... and my phone. i have zero idea how i sleep. :) yor junior members crack me up, i can see you fumbling with the phone trying to get it quiet, Wilf looking on. :)

About Me

2004, we sell the rain drenched farm in Scotland and move to the warmth of southern Europe. Two very lively Polish Lowland Sheepdog brothers - Wilf and Digby - accompany us. Fluffy,patient and comical . Forever attracting laughter and new friends . After a year in Provence we moved to Italy to restore an ancient Roman watchtower . Somethings are meant not to be. Following a rather unpleasantly violent 'housejacking' ( the third in our little village ) we left Italy in late 2009 for new adventures in the rolling countryside of south west France . We are now getting to grips with a large rickety old farmhouse. Life after the violence of Italy has a gentler tempo. Digby passed on from piroplasmosis in May 2010. HIs brother, despite being diagnosed with cancer and having become blind ,soldiered on for another two years. We now embark on the next part of our journey with two new PON's - Bob and Sophie. This blog records all those little things about living with dogs that are too unimportant to make it into a diary but which make life, life.